Sunday, August 16, 2015

Disclaimer: The author shuns responsibility
for any feelings of hurt this “Honesty 12.0 on a scale of 10” post may cause.
All characters that have inspired this post are certainly not fictitious, although
not all of them are known to the author personally. Any resemblance to anyone
living or throwing Hangover-themed parties on their fiftieth birthday is purely
so not coincidental. The author has documented her observations based on years
of harrowing experience of living in the US and failing miserably to blend in
with the nouveau riche NRI crowd. The entertainment their over-documented,
cookie-cutter celebrity lives have provided the author so much inspiration that
the author has renounced any contact whatsoever with the NRI community in
Europe. Love them, hate them, unfollow them, but you cannot delete them. Although
primarily meant for the NRI, the average Resident Indian (RI) has also started
to show such symptoms, thanks to globalization. Here are some sure shot signs
of an NRI/RI-socialite, documented without any prejudice or judgment (written in
first person for special effects).

1. The more pregnant we are, the filmier our lives get. By the time it gets
to the pregnancy photo shoot, replete with Surf-Excel-washed flowing white
clothes, pink/blue props (how innovative!), sugary-gooey loving expressions,
and close up shots of sixteen different positions of the man kissing the baby
bump (that is more of a hillock by now) and making heart signs with jointed fingers,
you will be wallowing in self-pity, looking at your own not-so-colorful life
and frantically Googling, “How to look amazing despite greying hair, hormonal
earthquakes, and PMS”.

2. For someone who attends five weekend parties on an average, you will
never see us wearing the same designer clothes or accessories twice. The 90-day
return policies of the stores certainly help.

3. We call our close friends "girlfriend", "babe", and
"bestie" on Facebook. And a bitch behind their Faceback.

Corollary: Behind every happy
groupfie taken with or without a stick is a bunch of dysfunctional friendship
stories gone awry due to petty jealousy.

4. The man we are standing next to, and most of the time intimately, or
even being lifted up in their arms, is not our husband. In fact most of the
time, the husband is the photographer, or a distant spectator.

5. We might originally hail from Kochi, Ernakulum, or Muzaffarnagar. But our
children have the names of Roman Gods and Greek Goddesses. A far cry from the
Hemlata, Indumati, Agniveena, or even the Nisha, Pooja, and Neha.

Nama Sutra: The art of giving our
children never-heard-before names. Take a mixer. Pour plenty of Hindi alphabets
you learnt in the first grade. Blend well, until they mix thoroughly. Pick up
two or three alphabets at random, and combine them in any random order,
creating names like Napa, Resa, Saga, Roti, Kapda. Remember, if the name makes
people go scratching their heads because they have never heard it before, it is
Roman and Greek enough.

6. You have never seen us without makeup. Even our family has never seen us
without makeup. Go check out the makeup groups where we dedicatedly post too-close-for-comfort
close-ups of our faces, giving detailed step-by-step accounts of the makeup
products we used in different quadrants of our face. Talking of effort, your
entire effort of writing that goddamn dissertation that you mistakenly thought
would pull you out of your pitiful existence would be put to shame.

7. Our predictable display of affection for other friends is very entertaining.
Most of the time, we Like and comment on the same set of people’s updates. We root
for brand names, not (writing) products. The comments typically look like this:

Did you know that the number of Likes and comments are a direct function of
a person’s popularity, and hence, should not be underestimated? We sometimes ask
people offline how our Facebook picture is, and nudge them to Like or leave a
comment, or paste their personal email/chat messages on our cake-cutting birthday
pictures. We often ask people to "show
some love”, because it is not love if it does not show.

8. Akhaade-Mein-Pehelwaan, or AMP alert: We will diligently tell you about every
effort we made to get a finely chiseled and sculpted body, making you look at
your six pack of (fl)abs and want to die out of shame.

"My breakfast was 50 push ups, 50
pull ups, 50 deadlifts, and 50 Surya Namaskars. For main course, did yoga and
Zumba. For dessert, held a buffalo for five minutes to build bicep strength.
Loved getting hot and sweaty. Now, time for chocolate pastries." (Hashtag:
Loveyourbody, hardcorehotness). To which, rain comments like, "Love your dedication. What an
inspiration!"

N.B.: We never ate that chocolate pastry. That was just to distract you,
and make you crave for desserts.

9. Our moms and dads are also on Facebook, and usually comment on our funnily
scandalous pictures with Alok-Nathish-sanskaari comments like, "God bless you beta.", or, “You are our baby doll.” (Parents, do you
know what a baby doll really means?). In case of pictures from trips to exotic
islands, our parents mostly write Tagore quotes in pure Bangla in the comments
section that no one else understands.

10. We usually comment on other friends' pictures, writing things like, "hawwt momma", and "yummy momma" (although they are
neither our mom, nor hot; far from it). Imagine your average Mashima from Midnapore,
calling your Mom “Garam Ma” or “Swadisht Ma”. Yeah, I know. When said in
English, even the most inappropriate of terms sound sassy and cool.

11. For your birthdays, you visit the local deity and the restaurant to
celebrate with friends and family. If the birthday is the 50th one, you hide in
your basement. When we turn 50, we fly to Vegas with a bunch of friends, ride
limousines, drink champagne, gamble, throw themed costume parties, and wear
identical tee-shirts with identical slogans to show solidarity.

12. Chin up. Hands on hips. Turn body to a
45 degree slant. These are not confidence-boosting mantras, but posing tricks
that can effectively take care of the double chin, the hanging biceps, and the
sagging tummy, respectively. And talking about pictures, if there aren’t any
close up pictures of every food item, including the chips and the soda, the
party was as good as having never happened at all.

13. Date nights occur more frequently than trips to the grocery store, post
office, or bank in our household.

14. One of the epic lines in my favorite movie When Harry Met Sally is when Harry tells Sally, “It is so nice when you can sit with someone
and not have to talk.” That’s why every vital conversation with the partner,
from when we will be home to how much we love one another, and even wishing each
other Happy Birthday and Happy Anniversary is made on Facebook.

15. Significant, coolness-enhancing, once-in-a-lifetime events like road
trips need special, live updates. Crossed a field. Saw a tree. Stopped by the
gas station and took a selfie. Ate roti and achaar while watching the sunset.
You get the picture.

16. If a new child
arrives without preamble, a maternity photo shoot, an elaborate baby shower,
periodic documentation of every emotional crest and trough mapped on the
pregnancy curve, or live updates from the hospital, the new child is probably a
puppy, kitty, or a new car.

Lastly, you see our pictures from five years ago, and we look like totally
normal people.

Saturday, August 08, 2015

Truth is
stranger than fiction. On a Saturday night at 11 pm, I sat in a bar right in
the heart of a red-light district, sipping on orange juice, and working. I had
a bus to take back home in two hours, and it made more sense to be indoors than
outdoors. This area is right by the Hauptbahnhoff, the central station. I had a
few more hours to kill, and it made sense to work, and watch guys pick up
girls, amid glasses of beer and other alcoholic beverages.

Europe is
amazingly open-minded this way. In India, I wouldn’t even dare walk close to
the red-light districts, even during the day. Even in the US, these areas
always had a bunch of cop cars flashing their blue lights, letting you know
that these areas are not trouble-free. In Europe, no one cares. No one bothers
you. There are no cops. People, families, pets, and kids walk around without
any hesitation, even as late as after midnight. No one will do anything to you
(unless you want something to be done to you). This area I was staying at is
infested with sex shops, strip clubs, blue film theaters, and what not. And
right next to those were ice cream shops, the Indian grocery store, an
all-vegetarian South Indian restaurant, a Starbucks, and what not. It seemed
like the pimps, prostitutes, strippers, call girls, drug addicts, devout
vegetarians, traffic police, beggars, restaurant owners, and tourists, all
co-existed together in the same neighborhood. That is so remarkable, and truly
the mark of a progressive society.

Traveling
is always enlightening. It shows me things that are unimaginable. And Frankfurt
is by no means anything like the tiny city I live in, where I get to see mostly
Germans. Ever since I left the US, I have missed seeing demographic diversity.
Never before have I been in a country that is a melting pot of so many people,
so many cultures across everywhere in the world. Living where I live now,
Germany looks very German, very White. But Frankfurt is more cosmopolitan. This
is the only city I have seen in Germany that looks closest to the US.

Transportation
in Frankfurt is also something to be admired (true in most big European
cities). The neighborhoods of Frankfurt are extremely well-connected. There is
a thick network of lines for the trains, buses, metros, and trams. One could
reach any corner of the city in no time. The metro is marked U with numbers
(U1, U2, etc.), and runs every five minutes. A daily pass costs €6.80, giving
one access to any train, bus, or tram (basically, anything that moves). People
compare Berlin to Washington DC (country’s capital), and Frankfurt to New York
City (the financial capital, also known as the “Main”hattan, because the river
Main flows by Frankfurt). I can totally see why.

Picture: The Frankfurt Skyline.

I spent
some time walking around the city, by the river Main, touring the Goethe
University campus, riding the trains, climbing churches, and generally taking
in the sights and sounds of a new city. I have been flying via Frankfurt for
the last nine years now, but never before did I visit the city. There was a
visible skyline of tall concrete buildings in the downtown area. Although much
smaller compared to the major US cities like New York City and San Francisco,
this is the most American looking set of concrete buildings I have seen in
Germany.

I stayed
in a hostel (as always) on Kaisserstrasse. The neighborhood is very red-light,
like I said, but nothing that makes you feel unsafe. The plus points: It’s a five
minute walk from the central station, the neighborhood is full of restaurants
and stores, and this place is within walking distance from any major tourist
attraction. In short, you cannot go wrong with the location. The neighborhood
was alive and throbbing with activity even at midnight.

The hostel was clean, functional, and promised what it offered for the
amount it charged. I love to travel on budget and live in hostels, so this was
great. If you like to travel in luxury, this is not the place for you. If
you do not want to spend extra money, carry everything with you. What you pay
for is a bed in the hostel, and access to showers and bathrooms. Beyond that,
they charge you for everything: Towels, soap, shampoo, breakfast (€4.50 for all
you can eat), and padlocks for your locker. The strange thing is, they charged
me €5 extra because it was Friday night, although eight out of the ten beds in
the room were empty that night. My bus was 13 hours after the checkout
time, and the good thing is that they let me wait in the common room, and then at the bar for that long. The internet is free, although the connection is not
superb, and you have to refresh your connection every three hours. I was there
for three nights, and there was a constant inflow of traffic in my room. The
interesting thing is that I shared a ten-bed female dorm, and every single
person other than me was Asian. Well, technically, I am from Asia too, but not
Asian.

Do not
miss eating at Saravanaa Bhavan on Kaisserstrasse (no free internet, the staff
is really friendly and gave me extra helpings of sambar and chutney all the
time, desi kids are a pain and made a mess at the table) and the Hyderabadi Biryani in Ruchi (Ludwigstrasse; internet is free, kids continue to make a mess, making the table look like a war-zone).
The ice cream shops along the area (€1/scoop) were pretty good too. The other
nice thing was huffing and puffing while climbing up the Frankfurt Cathedral
(€3-4). My biggest advice is, travel Europe
while you are physically fit. Because Europe means a lot of churches. And that
involves climbing on top of them to get panoramic views. Many of these churches
are old, do not have elevators, and involve climbing up hundreds of flights of
steps in roundabout stairways. Sometimes, all you have are railings and ropes
to hold on to. And when someone is descending the same way, all you can do is
tuck in your tummy, stop breathing, and hope that you do not trip and fall.

I am
beginning to realize that most big European cities are structured similarly.
There will be rivers and canals, with many bridges to walk by. Some of those bridges will
be weighed down by locks the lovers leave after inscribing their names. There
will be a few churches you can get on top of to get nice panoramic views. There
will be food districts, and red-light districts. Hamburg, Frankfurt, Berlin, Dresden,
Copenhagen, Malmoe, Paris, Geneva, Luebeck, Prague, the cities look similar. Perhaps
Lisbon and Sintra (both in Portugal) are the only two cities that looked a little
different.

My next trip
will be a tri-capital trip. Helsinki-Tallinn-Riga. The capital cities for Finland,
Estonia, and Latvia, respectively.

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